Page 39 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
Carp clapped me on my good shoulder, sending a frisson of pain lancing through my body. I grunted but thankfully didn’t pass out, like I would have if he’d hit the other shoulder. With much laughter and taunting, the five of us boarded the tiny private plane.
Just like the first time, Paige sat across from me and took my hand. As the jet began to taxi forward, she launched into a story about hustling her guards at poker. I smiled and prayed I’d never have to fly this far again.
CHAPTER 31
PAIGE
Before the first hour of the flight passed, Tom fell asleep. Between the last bit of pain medication the doctor had given him before we left and his injuries, I was honestly surprised it took him that long. I dropped my head back against the seat and let the quiet flow over me. In the cluster of four seats across the plane from Tom and me, Killian watched a black-and-white movie using headphones, and Carp and Stan bickered quietly over a card game I didn’t recognize. It was nothing like the rambunctious flight to Egypt, when I’d spent half the time clinging to the arms of my seat to keep from freaking out.
Not least because the dragon I came to slay lay dead behind me, just as I’d hoped. Well, not just as I’d hoped. If I could do it all over again, I’d skip the part where Zahur almost got me again. And the one where a scared woman nearly collapsed Tom’s lung. I flexed my fingers and remembered the smell of the bastard’s blood, of Tom’s blood when we landed in Lebanon.
“If you’re gonna cheat, play solitaire.” Stan heaved up from his seat and ambled toward the back of the plane where the drinks and snacks sat. Nobody had bothered to hire a flight attendant.
He snagged one of the mini bottles of vodka and popped it open. “I was going to do this when Tommaso was awake, but it seems like I’ll be waiting until next century for that.”
Carp chuckled. “At least.”
“For what?” I asked.
Killian moved one of his headphones aside, clearly thinking the same thing. Stan pulled out three more tiny liquor bottles and tossed them down the plane one at a time. I had to lunge to catch mine, but I did. Some gin I’d never heard of before. I opened it like everyone else.
Stan lifted his bottle. “To the men we lost. To the families that’ll grieve them. To the good they gave their lives for.” He tipped the bottle back into his mouth.
Carp and Killian followed suit, and I did after a moment’s hesitation. The gin burned going down. My last memory of Sam, glassy-eyed on the kitchen floor, floated to the forefront of my mind. The good he gave his life for was protecting me. Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked furiously.
Stan patted my shoulder as he passed. “No shame in that. We lost some good fucking people out there.”
Killian rattled of a few names I didn’t recognize. “All men I trusted to guard my house and my fiancée. They’ll be sorely missed.”
“I watched my buddy Andrew go down,” Carp said. “He never got back up.”
Stan sighed. “I’d never led a mission like that before. I think I’m going to carry all those deaths with me.”
I raised my bottle. “I watched Sam die for me. And he was a good fucking man, with a wife who’s going to miss him so goddamn much.”
“Cheers.” Killian knocked his bottle against mine. “I didn’t know him long, but I thought putting him on your guard was a smart idea.”
“He made Andrew laugh,” Carp said. When nobody responded, he shrugged. “Andrew was kind of a dick.”
Stan nodded sagely. “I liked him from the first fucking word. A guy you knew you could trust with your life.”
I drank silently while they traded stories about other men they saw die in Egypt. Even though it seemed like everyone was a hero, I couldn’t tear my mind away from Sam, and Amalia waiting for him to come home. My tears spilled down my cheeks.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Stan said. “I’m a macabre old bastard, but I promise I know how to shut up somewhere in here.”
I swiped the tears away and shook my head. “It’s okay. This is just part of the life, right?”
Killian tipped his bottle toward me in agreement.
“Sure,” Carp said, “but it’s the worst part.”
Stan nodded. “Even at my age, I’m not used to losing people. I don’t know if it ever gets easy.”
“I doubt it,” Killian said. “But that’s the timer the life puts on all of us. The world is your oyster until you’re tired of losing people. Or are lost yourself.”
I set my tiny bottle down on the table in front of me and stared at it for a long moment, thinking about Dad and my few memories of what life was like before he left the life.
“When I was a kid, I thought it was about the money,” I said.
